


It's A Quiet Room That Calls My Name

by primalrageanddumbassery



Series: I'll Love You Just The Same As When The Sun Dies [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blankets, Brief Alcohol Mention, Brief Mention of Martin's Mum (An Abusive Bitch), By the way? Fuck Martin's mum., Cause Jon is Ase and deserves to be respected! Yes this is a callout post, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, He just fear for his boyfriend's health, Hiding Under Blankets, I See You Jon, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I mean kind of? i don't think they had an official 'oh yeah we're dating' situation, I'M STILL EMOTIONAL OVER THAT SCENE O K A Y, I'm confused why is hand holding not a pre-existing tag?, If you read all the tags i want you to know that i love you and i want to be best friends, Insomnia, Internal Conflict, It's an emotional situation okay?, Jon Sims Deserves Hugs, Jon Sims is Patient With Martin Because That's How Good Relationships Work!, Jon Sims is a Good Partner, Jon knows approximately two (2) card games and one of which is Go Fish, M/M, Martin Blackwood Deserves Hugs, Martin Realizes His Right To Take Care Of Himself, Martin lives for the rustic aesthetic yes this is a callout post, Martin yells at himself in his head and it's painful to read, No Smut, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Realization of Self Worth, Self Loathing, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), So we're BRINGING IT BACK FROM THE GRAVE, Spoilers for The Magnus Archives Season 4, Swearing, Tell Me What You See, The K in Martin K. Blackwood stands for King, The Lonely - Freeform, There's Two Beds But They Decide To Share Because They're In Love!, Worried Jon Sims, a lot of crying, hand holding, soft head kisses, what a good lad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primalrageanddumbassery/pseuds/primalrageanddumbassery
Summary: Jon has been so distant since they arrived at the cabin. Martin wants to believe that he's giving Martin space, but the voices in his head have all but convinced him otherwise. The Lonely is returning, if it ever left at all.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: I'll Love You Just The Same As When The Sun Dies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921651
Comments: 12
Kudos: 117





	It's A Quiet Room That Calls My Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first TMA fic and I actually like how it turned out a lot better than I thought I would. The title is from the song Long Shadow by Della Mae which is an absolute BANGER of a song so you should check it out here: https://youtu.be/B7J30ksWBRE  
> (Btw if you spot the Lemony Snicket reference comment down below!)
> 
> Content Warnings:  
> Self Loathing  
> Brief Alcohol Mention  
> Insomnia  
> Fear of Abandonment  
> Crying  
> Brief Mention of an Abusive Parent (Martin' mum)  
> Repeating one sentence over and over  
> Swearing  
> If these things bother you at all I highly recommend you skip this fic! Please take care of yourself! I love you!!

_It's a long shadow that follows me  
It's the end of a day that promises me  
That I will see, oh I will see  
The morning_

_It's a quiet room that calls my name  
It gives me something, takes my shame  
So I can sing, oh I can sing  
'Til morning _  
\------------------------__

For all its faults, Martin really did like the safehouse. Sure, it was dusty, free of any decoration, and smelled like the 5 year old scotch left on the counters and in the cupboards. Sure, all blankets, pillows, and cloth-based items were moth eaten. Sure, the tiled floor of the kitchen was so bitterly cold that you could feel it through even your thickest socks (and occasionally even your shoes), making late night cups of tea borderline unpleasant, especially if you forgot to put on socks or shoes.  
All of that said, the beds were cozy enough, the fireplace was gorgeous, and Jon was there. Martin couldn't bring himself to truly hate any place with Jon when it came down to it. Even the memory of the Institute had a little bit of a rose-colored tinge to it, if only because he had met Jon there.  
So Martin bought rustic-looking signs with cheesy sentiments in cursive to hang around the house, a toothbrush holder to screw to the bathroom wall, and anything else he could find in the market to make the safehouse feel more like a permanent home than a random cabin he was hiding in with the man he... to be honest, he didn't know what Jon was to him, but he liked thinking of this as _their house_ rather than their hideaway or, worse, their prison.  
As much as he fantasized about being... whatever he fantasized about being to Jon, he couldn't help but notice how much space the other gave him. Sure, they'd eat together, play cards together (which was rather amusing as Jon only knew Trash and Go Fish), even just sit in what passed as a living room reading together, but Jon seemed so _tentative,_ like he thought if he got too close Martin would disintegrate. In all fairness, Martin had been in such a fragile state at first that any attempts to come near him might have resulted in whatever outcomes it was that Jon feared, but within a week most of the immediate effects of the Lonely had worn off. He was almost certain Jon had realized that he was, for the most part, better now, but his companion seemed no more willing to make physical contact than he was the first week. For reference, they were now on week seven.  
There was, of course, that tiny voice in Martin's head -too frequent to be in the back of his mind, but not loud enough for him to devote very much conscious thought to it for at least a little while- that was slowly filling Martin with a lonesome dread not unlike the kind he knew back when Jon was in the height of his paranoia.  
_He's just being polite, you do know that, right?_ the voice would whisper.  
_He's only staying because he needs to. He just wants to keep himself safe. He doesn't love you the way you love him. He doesn't WANT to love you the way you love him. Who would? It's obsessive, disabling, disgusting. Not even your own mother wanted your love. Why would someone who could choose otherwise?_  
Soon, the voice wasn't a tiny voice anymore, but a voice demanding to be heard. It sounded remarkably like Jon's own voice. Soon, it wasn't very far away from the forefront of his mind. He could hear it all the time, with that _tone_ Jon had when he was absolutely disgusted. The only tone Martin had known him to have for almost the entire first year they'd known each other.  
In this instance, Martin was trying to read a book on the sofa. It was late at night, around 10:30, but he had long since given up on sleep and instead had resigned himself to trying to focus on the memoir he found on Daisy's nightstand. It wasn't working. His mind was so polluted with his worries that he found himself rereading one sentence over and over. His mind was so polluted with his worries that he found himself rereading one sentence over and over. His mind was so polluted with his worries that he found himself rereading one sentence over and over. His mind was so polluted with his worries that he found himself rereading one sentence over and over.  
The soft sound of Jon clearing his throat brought him out of his thoughts. Martin looked up from the book in a bit of a daze.  
"Oh, did you say something, Jon?" he asked, immediately worried he'd missed something important.  
"Not yet, actually," Jon replied, "but I was going to tell you that I'm going to bed."  
"Oh, okay. Sleep well, then." Martin looked back down at his book. There was a beat of silence.  
"You should think about doing the same, Martin," Jon said softly. Martin looked up again, surprised.  
"Oh, no, I'm alright. I have some things on my mind right now- I don't think I could sleep if I wanted to." Jon frowned with concern.  
"Are you sure? You look like you haven't slept well. It might do you some good." _I do?_ Martin thought. He hadn't noticed looking any different.  
"I'll go to bed in a bit, alright?" he assured Jon. "You go ahead." Jon's brow furrowed and for a moment he looked like he was about to argue, but seemed to think better of it.  
"Alright. Goodnight, Martin."  
Jon almost shut the door to the guest bedroom behind him, but he seemed to think better of it and left it ajar.  
\--------------  
Try as he might, Martin couldn't force himself to focus on his book. He would finish a page, but realize he couldn't recall in the least what he'd read on it. It wasn't even serving as a distraction anymore- his every thought was of Jon's distance.  
Of how _lonely_ he was.  
He didn't put a word to it immediately, but then he felt the fog -perfectly devoid of temperature to contrast the warm cabin, just as he remembered it- curling around his arms and legs and neck and between each of his fingers. He knew then. He had no illusions about what the opaque gray fog meant.  
"No, no, I'm out of there," he whispered, trying to fan it away. It didn't work, of course, becoming clearer and clearer as he felt himself start to fade out of vision.  
"Stop it, stop it! I'm not lonely!" He gripped his head in frustration. The fog was unrelenting. The very worst part of it, however, was the sense, deep down, of relief. The numbness was returning and he knew how much _easier_ everything became with it. A part of him, a bigger part than he would ever like to admit, wanted nothing more than to submit again. If he just let go...  
Before he knew it, he was in the bedroom he was using, burrowing head-first under the covers. It was something he had done as a very small child, swimming to to bottom of the sheets like it was the ocean or a cave. Other than the rustle of covers as he went deeper, all other sounds were muted by the blankets. It had always sounded, to him, like he was utterly alone.  
He was a good deal bigger now, and unless his legs were drawn up close to him, they stuck out the top of the blankets. It was surreal to be in such a familiar situation again but with a drastically different body. Even so, he knew why he had done it again.  
It was pitch black under the covers, all of the sounds muted by the layers of comforter and quilt. In the quiet, he could more easily hear the pounding voice.  
_HE DOESN'T NEED YOU. HE NEVER HAS. THE ONLY REASON HE REMAINS HERE IS FEAR OF WHAT LIES OUTSIDE. WHY ELSE WOULD ANYONE VOLUNTARILY SPEND TIME WITH MARTIN BLACKWOOD?_  
This was loneliness at its finest.  
A part of him was still reluctant, still conscious of the danger he was in. How he'd fought so hard to get out of the Lonely the first time, how he felt so much happier when he was able to just be with Jon like he should have been for the past year.  
This was the part of him that made him cry. Even though he could feel the calm fog, the relievingly calm fog that whispered of its tranquility, of its numbness to him, he could still feel the tiniest sliver of himself that remained and protested. His sobs shook his chest violently, loudly. His first instinct was to try to quiet himself ( _"Mum hates it when I'm loud, she'll be so mad at me..."_ he thought in his delirium), but upon trying, he found that he couldn't. He was crying too hard for that to be even close to plausible. He hugged his knees, lying on his side underneath the blankets.  
_This is why,_ he thought.  
_This is exactly why he's keeping away from you. Look at you! You're a mess! What kind of crazy would he have to be to want to get involved with this shitshow? It's selfish of you to even consider letting him get involved. Jon does NOT need this kind of stress. Why, you're the most selfish man on the continent! The planet, even! After all Jon has been through? Why would you even THINK about asking for his help? You're such a-_  
"Martin? Are you okay? I heard you-"  
Jon's voice stopped at the same moment that Martin froze.  
"Martin, are you alright?" _Shit, shit, shit! He'll see my puffy red eyes, he'll see the fog- OH SHIT, HE'LL SEE THE FOG, HE'LL SEE THAT I'M FADING, I CAN'T BELIEVE I WAS SO-_  
He felt the mattress depress. _Jon has sat down._  
"You can talk to me about anything, Martin. You _do_ know that?" Martin took a shaky breath. The half of him that had been more than ready to return to the Lonely was uncomfortable.  
"Y-yeah," he whispered finally. With a high degree of difficulty, whether from his own reluctance or the physical restraints, he slowly crawled out of the covers. Jon had clicked on the bedside lamp and was smiling at him.  
"There you are." Martin smiled back shyly.  
"Here I am." Jon looked him up and down, eyes catching on the fog. His breath hitched.  
"The Lonely again?" Martin shrunk into himself, vigorously messing with the threadbare edge of the quilt. His fingertips were completely invisible. "Hey, hey, it's alright," Jon said softly. "I'm not mad if it's back. I just want to help it go away again, okay?"  
This was probably the softest Martin had ever heard Jon's voice. He was surprised he wasn't a puddle by now.  
"Ok-okay," Martin whispered. He relaxed his shoulders as best he could. The quiet that followed was almost tense with Jon apparently thinking about what to do next and Martin trying (in vain) to push away the thoughts again.  
"Can you- that is, would you like to... talk about it?" Jon asked tentatively.  
_Don't tell him! He'll think you're ungrateful! He's giving you the space he thinks you need, you can't tell him that he's making it worse! What are you doing? How dare you even consider it? He's trying to be kind to you! Why would you throw it back in his face? Just lie, tell him you don't know how it happened, tell him it came out of nowhere and you're just fine, tell him-_  
"Martin? Are you still with me?" Jon's voice drew him out of his thoughts.  
_No, Jon's too smart for that. I have to tell him._  
"Yeah, I am. I think I... I think I _would_ like to talk about it." Jon nodded.  
"Alright, then," Jon said. Martin took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to begin.  
"I've been... worried, I think? Yeah, I've been worried recently. About how you feel about me. I mean, don't get me wrong- you're nowhere _near_ the way you were in the beginning, and I'm really happy about that, but..." He trailed off, searching for the words. "Look, Jon- I know you're trying to give me space and not impose, but space is the complete opposite of what I need. I mean," he said with a half-assed laugh, "I've had nothing but space since that damned Unknowing. I- I mean, if you would be..." He took a breath to steel himself. "If you would be willing to get closer to me, that would be good. For me. I think." Jon's mouth was slightly ajar in... surprise? Loss of words?  
"Martin, I... I'm so sorry, I didn't realize that I... I should have kn-"  
"No, no, Jon, don't do that, you had no reason to have known," Martin pleaded. "You didn't know and what's done is done. But now that you do know..."  
"I'll do anything to make sure you don't feel that way again," Jon assured him. "Of course. I _am_ sorry, though. I promise, I'll do whatever you need me to do." Martin smiled widely. Probably the first genuine, Martin K. Blackwood Ray-Of-Sunshine Smile™️ that had occured since, well, since the Unknowing.  
"Is touching alright?" Jon asked softly. The half of him prepared to become Lonely again was still there and screamed 'no', screamed for Jon to leave, but Martin nodded.  
"Yes. Yeah, it's okay."  
Jon's hand reached out and covered Martin's.  
"What do you see?" he asked gently. Martin smiled.  
"You, Jon." Jon's grip tightened around Martin's fingers. His hand was substantially smaller, something that would have made Martin laugh in another situation.  
"And I'm not going anywhere, you hear me, Martin? I'm staying right here, right by your side as long as you need me." His green-brown eyes, so calculating so much of the time, looked at Martin with nothing other than pure adoration. Martin felt himself tearing up.  
"Thank you, Jon," he whispered. Jon chuckled.  
"Oh, Martin, don't _cry..._ " he stood up and moved to the other side of the bed so he could sit next to Martin. He slid into the covers and put a gentle hand on the cheek that faced away from him, guiding Martin's head to lay on Jon's shoulder. Martin laughed a bit, relaxing. He had to shift his body sideways so he wasn't bending down to do so. Jon's arm settled around Martin's shoulders.  
The fog wasn't gone, but it was getting there. Martin knew it wouldn't just disappear. It'd had too lasting an effect on him to just _disappear._ He was still a little bit lonely, but that was alright. He had Jon, and he was now positive that Jon won't leave him. He would heal in time.  
"Jon?"  
"Hm?" Jon hummed in response.  
"Would you... would you stay in here with me? In the bedroom?" Jon smiled.  
"Of course." He pressed a kiss into Martin's hazelnut curls. "As long as you'll have me." Martin chuckled.  
"You're never going to sleep in that other bedroom again in that case." Jon shrugged.  
"Then so be it."

____

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading!!!!!!!! Bro I enjoyed writing this so much! It went through several drafts over the past few days so I was just a tad bit worried but!! it's fine!!! and I'm happy!!!!!  
> And by the way, the swimming under blankets thing? You cannot imagine how fun that is. I did that when I was a kid ALL the time and quite frankly if I had a bed larger than a twin, I would still do it. I would highly recommend that you try it as soon as possible. Pro tip- it works best in a large, king or queen sized bed, and even better if the covers are tucked in at the end of the bed.  
> Shoutout to takethebreadsticksandRUN for my headcanon of the 'I see you' bit being repetitive with JonMartin, I messy sob over their fics every day so PLEASE go check them out here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethebreadsticksandRUN  
> Second shoutout to celosiaa for just being absolutely amazing and writing GOD TIER fics about these boyes, ilysm Connor! Check them out here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celosiaa  
> And again, if you want to know what the song is that this fic was named after, listen to Long Shadow by Della Mae here because it fucking SLAPS: https://youtu.be/B7J30ksWBRE  
> Y'ALL I HAVE AN OFFICIAL FANFICKING TUMBLR NOW! You can submit requests to https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/primalrageanddumbassery  
> If you enjoyed my work, feel free to leave a Kudos or a comment (or BOTH if you're feeling s p i c y)  
> I don't have any other TMA fics at the moment but if you like Ducktales, Frankenstein (yes I wrote fanfiction for Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, the musical hits different okay???), or Welcome to Night Vale, it would mean a lot to me if you would check out my other works!  
> Hey! I love you! Take care of yourself, okay? Go get yourself some water to celebrate the fact that you're a cool person! Or food if you haven't eaten recently. Or your meds if you need them! Stay safe and remember that you're radder than, like, a whole jar of peanut butter!  
> I repeat: THANK YOU FOR READING!  
> ~Beck


End file.
